Part 2

Johnny spun the dial on the combination lock that secured the door of the brown metal locker he and Roy were sharing. The locker was in a hallway lined with identical brown metal lockers.  Each locker had white numerals painted on it.  Johnny and Roy had been assigned locker 26, so if nothing else, the big white numbers made locating the locker easy. 

Johnny’s dirty clothes were tied in a bundle.  He laid the bundle on top of Roy’s dirty clothes, which were also knotted into a bundle and resting on the locker’s floor.  Johnny took his wallet off the top shelf of the locker, opened it, and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills.  He stuffed the money in the right front pocket of his pants.  Roy’s wallet was on the top shelf, and Johnny imagined his partner had done the same thing he was – had gotten some cash, and then returned his wallet to the locker for safekeeping.  When Johnny was a rookie and working his first large brushfire, an older firefighter had offered him a piece of advice.

“Don’t take your wallet to the fire line, kid. I can’t count how many guys have lost wallets ‘cause they inch their way outta your pocket while you work.  Keep it in your locker, or put it in one a’ the engine’s compartments.”

Roy must have been given that same advice at one time, because ever since they’d arrived, Roy, like Johnny, had been stowing his wallet in their shared locker.

Johnny shut the locker door, spun the dial on the lock, and went to look for his partner.    He finally spotted the man at a payphone down the corridor, but chose to keep his distance so Roy could have a little privacy while he talked to his family. With his right knee bent and foot planted firmly on the brick wall, Johnny leaned back and ran a hand through his damp hair. 

With a faint twinge of regret, Johnny let himself indulge in a moment of envy.  He enjoyed his life as a fireman, bachelor, and free spirit, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t better to have someone special, like Roy did.  With a wife and two children, his partner never had to wonder who’d miss him if he were gone.  But Johnny had no one.  If he disappeared tomorrow, who’d miss him?  Oh, the guys all cared, but that wasn’t the same.  Seeing Roy talking happily on the phone, Johnny knew that he was missing something very important in his life. 

“Someday . .”  he mumbled under his breath.

“Johnny?  You ready to get something to eat?”

Straightening up to his full height, Johnny’s smile was only half-hearted. 

“I sure am, but we don’t have much time.  While you were on the phone, that little guy came by to remind me that we only have twenty-five minutes left.”

“Yeah, I know.  Guess that cuts out most of the places in town.”

“Yep,” Johnny agreed. “We’d never get done in time.”

A Ventura County fireman had told Johnny and Roy that the Chamber of Commerce wouldn’t allow fast food restaurants within the town’s boundaries.  They felt such franchises would ruin the quaint atmosphere of Ojai.  Therefore, grabbing a quick meal from McDonald’s or Burger King was impossible.  

The two men stood lost in thought for only a moment, their stomachs clamoring for something to fill the void.  With no real options, they looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

“Guess it’s the lunchroom,” the younger man groaned.

“Yeah, cold sandwiches again,” Roy agreed.

”You know, I’m so hungry, even one of Chet’s concoctions sounds good.”

“Think he’d deliver something if we called him?”

“Nah.  He probably knows the chief up here, and figures being a ‘real’ fireman and all, he’d get assigned to the front lines, instead a’ to the chow line.”

With a laugh, the two paramedics hurried toward the cafeteria, anxious to get something to eat before meeting up with the men from Kern County.  Outside the cafeteria’s windows, a black haze filled the sky as the fire gained momentum. 

~*~

It was the start of the second full day that Johnny and Roy would be in Ojai, when Station 51’s A-shift reported for duty after having twenty-four hours off.  Charlie Dwyer and Larry Kessler were still taking the places of Gage and DeSoto, for which Hank Stanley was thankful.  It made things easier on the whole crew if they didn’t have to adapt to guys they weren’t used to working with from day to day. Everyone on the A-shift knew Charlie.  He bowled with Johnny and Chet every week on a team that made up just one of many within the fire department’s league, and as a Station 51 C-shift paramedic, often filled in for Johnny or Roy when vacations rolled around, or a sick day was taken.

Though none of the men knew Larry well, he seemed to fit right in from what Hank had observed.  He was easy going, had a good sense of humor, and wasn’t prone to falling for Chet’s pranks the way Johnny was, which made things a little quieter than usual.

Quiet is okay, Hank thought as he walked to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.  I’ll take quiet on any day, over Kelly and Gage going at one another. Though I gotta admit, they do liven things up around here.

Hank squelched that thought before he’d live to regret it.  He knew once Johnny and Roy returned, the Gage/Kelly war would continue as though there hadn’t been any interruption to it.  It was a mixed blessing at best. On some days their battles provided much needed humor and some good old-fashioned fun.  On other days, their battles made Hank think of two bickering ten year olds, and they just about drove him crazy until he finally stepped in and told them to cool it because he wasn’t in the mood to listen to their nonsense.

Shortly before lunchtime the men were done with their assignments, and were gathered around the T.V. set.  Chet was flipping channels, trying to find news on the fire.  After briefly stopping on the Price is Right, Sesame Street, and an ancient Leave it to Beaver rerun, Chet found a channel that was devoting its morning to live coverage of the fire.  A young blond headed man wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, along with a navy blue tie, was standing outside a high school. Fire trucks, police cars, and rescue vehicles filled the school’s parking lot.  The newsman spoke into the microphone he was holding, while looking into the camera.

“I’m in Ojai, standing outside Edward D. Libbey High School, which is serving as the central command post for the Ventura County Fire Department.  Firefighters from Los Angeles County, nearby Kern and Inyo Counties, as well as San Bernardino and Riverside Counties, have been brought in to assist Ventura County battle this enormous blaze that’s just not letting the men get ahead of it due to the high winds and dry weather conditions.”

The high winds were evident by the way the reporter’s shaggy hair blew into his face. He turned sideways and pointed behind him. 

“You can see how thick the air is with smoke.  It’s causing breathing difficulties for Ojai residents who have asthma, and other chronic lung problems.  The smoke is so thick the sun can’t be seen, and the heat up here makes it feel like you’ve climbed into an oven.  Residents with air conditioning are urged to stay in-doors, while keeping their windows and doors shut.  If you have air conditioning and know of someone with a chronic health problem who doesn’t, Ventura County’s Fire Chief, Leonard Smitz, asks that you open your home to him or her.  If you have heart or lung problems, but have no access to air-conditioning, you’re urged to seek shelter at Ojai Valley Community Hospital. The hospital is providing a community room with cots to sleep on at no cost to any resident in need.  If transportation is a challenge, please call the toll free number that’s appearing on your T.V. screen now.”

Chet looked at his shift-mates. “Things must be really bad up there.”

“Looks that way,” Hank agreed.

Marco studied the pictures being shown on the screen.  “I wonder if they’ll have to evacuate the town.”

“Dunno, Marco,” Hank said as he refilled his coffee cup.  “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but if they can’t get that fire under control, and if those winds don’t let up, they won’t have much choice.”

“Wonder if Johnny and Roy’ll get involved in that?” Larry mused.

Chet laughed. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You don’t know Gage and DeSoto, do you?” Chet asked.

“Well...no, not really.”

“Let me fill ya’ in then. Roy’s got the patience of a saint. He’d have to be in order to work with Gage all day.  He’ll hate havin’ to deal with old ladies, whiney kids, and idiots who refuse to leave their homes, but if he’s told to help evacuate people, he’ll put a smile on his face and act like it’s the best job in the world.  Johnny, on the other hand, will be pissed off within five minutes, and’ll rant and rave to Roy like the world’s coming to an end.”

“Until some good looking chick catches his eye,” Mike said.

“Yeah, until then. Then the Gage charm’ll kick in, and he’ll probably be the only firefighter who walks away from an evacuation with a date.”

Before anyone could respond to what Chet had said, the bell beside the front door rang.  Hank hurried to answer it with a mumbled, “Who could that be? If I didn’t have to work today, I’d be floating around in a swimming pool somewhere trying to stay cool.”

“Your wife comin’ to check up on you today, Kessler?” Chet teased. “Wants to meet us and make sure we’re treatin’ you right?”

“Don’t think so.  The twins keep her pretty close to home right now.”

Larry’s infant son and daughter were eight months old, so from what little Chet knew about babies, he supposed that was true.

“Maybe Joanne’s stopping by with the kids,” Chet guessed. “I hope she brings some cookies.”

“Why would Joanne stop by with cookies?” Marco asked. “Roy’s not here.”

“I know, but maybe just ‘cause she likes us.”

“Chet, it’s a hundred degrees out there. No woman in her right mind is baking cookies for us on a day when it’s a hundred degrees. I don’t care how much she likes us.”

“I think you’re gonna have to eat your words, Marco,” Hank said as he entered the day room with an elderly couple, “along with eating these cookies.” 

The captain held up a fat, round oatmeal cookie, then took his second bite out of it. 

“Mmmm…these are really good, Mrs. Glenbrook. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.”

Hank set the paper plate he was carrying heaped high with homemade cookies on the center of the table. 

“Guys, this is Mr. and Mrs. Glenbrook – John’s neighbors.  They stopped by to see if we’ve heard from him.”

“Been watchin’ that big fire there on the T.V.!” Mr. Glenbrook shouted while waving his cane at the television set, “Just like you fellas are!  Been gettin’ Johnny’s mail for him since he left, and the Mrs. here has got it in her head that maybe something happened to him since he’s not back yet.  I told her she was worryin’ for nothing, but you know women! Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without em!”

“Oh you.” Mrs. Glenbrook lightly swatted her husband’s arm. She pulled out a chair. “Here, have a seat.”

The man looked through the thick lenses of his glasses, scanning the table. “I don’t see any meat, but I think I’ll have a cookie!”

“I brought those for the boys.”  Edna slapped her husband’s hand. “You keep out of them!”

“It’s okay,” Hank said.  If nothing else, stepping in-between Johnny and Chet’s battles these past few years made refereeing for the elderly couple seem like a cake walk. “You made plenty for all of us.” 

Hank looked at his men. Each face reflected the amusement the crew was getting from their unusual visitors. But then, who would expect John Gage to have neighbors who didn’t possess a few quirks?

“Mike, how about pouring Mr. Glenbrook a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, Cap.”

“The rest of you come on over and grab yourselves a cup of coffee and some cookies. I guarantee you that they’re terrific.”

“See,” Chet said to Marco under his breath.  “Some woman does like us enough to bake cookies for us on a hundred degree day.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know us.”

“Maybe not, but evidently she likes Gage enough to bake cookies for us, so I won’t argue the point.”

“Me neither,” Marco said as he took a bite of his cookie. “Cap’s right. These are good.”

While Hank’s men filled coffee cups and took cookies off the plate, Hank turned to Edna.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we haven’t heard anything from John or Roy since they left on Tuesday afternoon.”

“That’s been almost forty-eight hours ago now.”

“Yes, ma’am, but I really don’t expect them back until the weekend at the earliest.  Maybe not even until sometime next week.  It all depends on the situation with the fire.  If getting John’s mail is a problem, I’m sure I can have one of my men stop by and pick it up. Chet, you go right by Gage’s place on your way home.  You can get his mail for him, can’t you?”

As typical of Chet, he was ready to do battle with Johnny one minute, and then willing to help him the next.

“Sure, Cap. Not a problem.”

“No, no,” Mrs. Glenbrook said.  “I don’t need you to do that, young man.  I don’t mind getting Johnny’s mail.  I pick it up when I get my own.  It’s not an inconvenience.  I was just worried about him, that’s all, so I told Harold that as long as we had errands to run this morning, we should stop by here and see if Johnny’s back, or if any of you men knew when he might be coming home.  Harold was worried, too, despite what he said.”

Mr. Glenbrook cupped a hand to his left ear and tilted his head toward his wife.  “Huh? What’d you say?”

“I said you were worried about Johnny!”

“Was not! I told you Johnny can take care of himself!”

“Oh, you did not.  You’ve been asking me ever since yesterday afternoon if Johnny was home yet.”  Edna looked at Hank. “He keeps thinking he hears Johnny’s apartment door open, and sends me over there to check and see if he’s home.  He’s stone deaf – the stubborn ole’ fool won’t get a hearing aid - can’t even hear our own door open, so how he thinks he can hear Johnny’s is beyond me.”

“It’s nice that both of you are worried about John,” Cap said, while diplomatically sidestepping any arguments between the husband and wife.  “I’m sure he’ll appreciate knowing you care, but I have no reason to believe that he and Roy are anything but fine.”

“Roy? Is that the man with the cute little blond boy and girl who sometimes come to visit Johnny?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“They’re nice children. Well-mannered and respectful of others. They don’t run in the hallway, or make a lot of noise like some children do when they visit someone in our apartment building.”

“No, ma’am, I’m sure they don’t.  Roy and Joanne wouldn’t allow that kind of behavior.”

Harold carried on with Hank’s crew, his shouts making him oblivious to the conversation going on behind him.

“Johnny’s been good to us, you know,” Mrs. Glenbrook told Captain Stanley. “He came over at two in the morning one time last year when Harold thought he was having a heart attack. It was only indigestion – the old fool had gone to a Dodgers game with our grandsons and had eaten three hot dogs heaped high with onions and relish. I told him he deserved indigestion after eating like he was fourteen again, instead of eating like an eighty-four year old man should. 

“But all that aside, our doctor told me Johnny did the right things.  He got Harold calmed down, made him sit up in bed, loosened his pajama top, took his pulse, found out from me what medications Harold takes, called for an ambulance and a paramedic squad, stayed with us until everyone arrived, talked to the paramedics, then sent Harold to the hospital to be checked out and drove me there, even though by then Harold was insisting he was fine.

“And then when Harold fell in our kitchen last month and I couldn’t get him up, Johnny came over and got him back on his feet.  I woke Johnny from a nap, but he never said anything about it. Just said he was happy to help when I apologized for disturbing him.”

“Johnny’s like that,” Hank agreed. “I’m sure he’s a good neighbor.”

“He is.” Edna took a pen and small notebook out of her purse. “May I leave our phone number with you, Captain?  If you hear anything from Johnny, do you mind calling me and letting me know?  I’m sure you’re a busy man, and I don’t mean to cause you more work, but--”

Hank smiled. “You’re worried about Johnny.”

“I try not to be, and I know Johnny’s good at what he does, but still…I worry about him just like I’d worry about Eddie if he were a fireman.”

“Eddie?”

“My son.  Only I should call him ‘Ed’ or ‘Edward’ because he’s sixty years old, and if he heard me call him Eddie, he’d scold me.”

Hank smiled. “I think it’s a mother’s prerogative to call her son by whatever nickname she wants to.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling Eddie for the last fifty years, but he’s stubborn like his father…and doesn’t hear so well either, any more.” 

Hank fought to keep from laughing. Having one deaf man in the station was enough as far as he was concerned.  Two of them would have been more than he could take.

“You go right ahead and give me your number,” Hank said over Mr. Glenbrooks’ shouts at Chet about something to do with a fire in France he’d been caught in the middle of during World War I.  Hank wasn’t certain if Mr. Glenbrook meant a forest fire, or a firefight as in with guns and ammunition, and by the look on Chet’s face, he didn’t have a clue as to what the old man was talking about either.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Glenbrook said while she used the table for a firm surface. She wrote her number on the paper, then tore the paper from the spirals that held the notebook together. She handed the slip to Hank.  “I appreciate this.”

“No problem, Mrs. Glenbrook.”  Hank folded the paper in half and put it in his shirt pocket. “No problem at all.”

“But don’t you tell Johnny I was worried about him. He’ll tease me for being so silly.”

“I won’t, though like I said, he’d appreciate knowing you think so much of him.”

“Probably so, and after all, a woman my age has the right to worry now and again if she wants to, don’t you think?”

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.”

“You’re a very nice man, Captain Stanley. It’s no wonder Johnny speaks so highly of you. He says all your men would follow you to…well, to you know where and back.”

Hank couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Though he knew he had a good rapport with his men, he appreciated knowing he was the kind of leader his crew respected and enjoyed working for.

Edna wrapped a hand around her husband’s left elbow. “Come on, Harold, let’s leave.”

The old man looked at his shirt. “Sleeve? Ain’t nothing on my sleeve!  All I did was eat a cookie and drink some of this here coffee!”

“I said leave!  We need to go!  I want to get our errands done before it gets any hotter outside.”

Hank helped Mrs. Glenbrook get her husband to his feet.  The crew said goodbye to the couple and thanked Edna for the cookies before Hank walked them to the front door.

When the captain returned to the dayroom after seeing the couple to their car, Chet shook his head. 

“Only Gage.”

“Only Gage what?” Hank asked.

“Only Gage could have neighbors that goofy.”

“I thought they were nice.”

“Yeah,” Marco agreed. “They seemed like a nice old couple to me.”

“Me too,” Mike said, followed by “Seemed like nice people to me,” as spoken by Charlie, and “She sure makes good cookies,” said by Larry.

Realizing he was outnumbered caused Chet to go on the defensive. “Yeah…I guess they were nice, but the old guy can’t hear worth a damn.”

“Kelly, when the day comes that you’re closer to ninety than you are to thirty, we’ll see just how good your hearing is.”

Because he was going to lose no matter what he said about Harold and Edna Glenbrook, Chet decided a change of subject was in order. He glanced at the T.V. screen to see a close up of the fire being shown.  Flames shot from a stand of trees on a steep hillside, and smoke rose toward the sky in a black plume so solid it looked like a never-ending wall.

“I bet Johnny and Roy are gonna have all kinds of things to tell us when they come back.

They’re probably right in the thick of things, working their tails off.”

Hank nodded. “Probably.”

Other than Mike, who’d been assigned to lunch duty, the men started to gather around the T.V. set again.  Mike had just pulled a frying pan out of a cabinet and was headed to the refrigerator for hamburger patties, when the tones went off, summoning both the squad and engine to an office building six blocks away that had just received a bomb threat.

Chet figured the call would prove to be a false alarm, like most bomb threats usually were, but hey, if it was a real bomb, he just might have a story to top any Johnny and Roy could tell when they got back from Ojai.

Man, do those guys know how to live right, Chet thought, as the engine sped down the road behind the squad.  Johnny and Roy are seeing all the action, while all we get to do is entertain a couple a’ old people, and then stand around outside an office building in our turnout coats in one- hundred degree heat while we wait for the cops to give the all clear. Man, Gage and DeSoto have all the luck. 

~*~

Gage and DeSoto didn’t consider themselves to be nearly as lucky as Chet Kelly considered them to be.  They had followed the Kern County crew high into the hills surrounding Ojai on Wednesday evening, and reported to the new base camp -  Base Camp 9 – like they’d been instructed to do. 

Johnny had looked around at the men coming and going as Roy parked the squad.  He’d seen a lot of faces since they’d arrived, but rarely saw anyone more than once. He hadn’t even run across that friendly guy they’d met at the school on Tuesday afternoon  – Pete Peterson.  Johnny supposed this wasn’t unusual, given the vast number of men fighting the large fire, but since he’d never been pulled out of L.A. County for a brush fire before, he’d never encountered a situation like this where he didn’t meet up with guys he knew as he and Roy were moved from one base camp to another.

 After getting out of the squad, the paramedics had checked in with the camp’s commander, a Ventura County Battalion Chief by the name of Wade North.

“You Gage and DeSoto?” the big man asked with just a brief glance up from his clipboard.

“Yeah,” Johnny said.

The clipboard was thrust at Johnny, while North turned to consult his map of the area and put another push-pin in place. 

“Here.  Sign in.”

Johnny wrote his name on the paper, then passed the clipboard to Roy, who’d done the same thing.

When the chief didn’t turn around, Roy put the clipboard on the table that was set up beneath the tent.

“Done?”

The paramedics exchanged glances.

“Yeah,” Roy said.

“Good. You guys can set up a first aid station over there.”

The man waved his hand toward the southwest end of the tent, indicating to the open area beyond it.

“Uh…Chief…we can do more than give first aid.”

“That’s great to hear, DeSoto--”

“Gage.  I’m Gage.”

The man didn’t turn around in order to identify the speaker, but instead, kept looking between his map and his crew assignment sheets.

“That’s great to hear, Gage.  If and when I need you to do more than give first aid, I’ll let you know.”

“But--”

Before Johnny could get himself in trouble, Roy placed a hand on his arm and nodded toward the area where North had indicated they should set up.

“Come on,” Roy had said quietly. “Let’s go.”

Any further argument Johnny wanted to pursue was held at bay, not by his common sense, or Roy’s urging, but because other firefighters entered the tent to consult with Chief North.  That arrival of the men meant Johnny’s opportunity to give the chief an earful about having come all the way from L.A. to do more than irrigate eyes, was lost. 

“Man, Roy, I can’t believe this,” Johnny had said when they got outside the tent. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “We came all the way up here, and all we’re doing is stuff a twelve-year-old Boy Scout could handle.”

“Maybe so,” Roy said, as he headed toward the squad to get the equipment they’d need, “but right now, that’s the job the man’s assigned us.”

Johnny followed his partner.  “Well, it’s not the job I want. And if you were bein’ honest, you’d say the same thing.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Huh?”

“Be careful what you wish for or it might come true.  Don’t borrow trouble.  Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.  Don’t--”

“Now you sound like my dad.”

“Must be a smart man then.”

“He thinks so.”

Roy smiled at the humor he finally heard in Johnny’s voice.

“Come on, let’s get setup before it gets dark.”

Johnny had tugged on his shirt as he began opening compartments and pulling out what they needed.  Because of the heat, both he and Roy had foregone uniform shirts after their showers, in favor of the navy blue T-shirts the L.A. County Fire Department issued for occasions like this.  There was nothing on the shirts that identified the wearer by name, nor even the fire department he belonged to.  On the right breast was a squared off four-leaf-clover logo, with a ladder on one side and a fire hydrant on the other. In the middle of the white logo were the letters FD.  Johnny had seen guys from Ventura County and Kane County wearing the same shirts, so figured the various departments were able to buy them in bulk at little cost.

 The back of Roy’s shirt was stained with sweat, just like the back of Johnny’s was.  That left Johnny uncertain as to just how much cooler the T-shirts really were, but then given the heat of the day, and now the close proximity of the fire, Johnny assumed they’d be sweating if they were standing there buck naked.

“Maybe then North would at least notice us,” the man mumbled.

“What was that?” Roy asked, as he headed toward the table he was going to use as a first aid station.

“Nothing,” Johnny said. “Forget it.”

Roy didn’t press Johnny on the issue.  He’d been the man’s partner long enough to know that if Johnny was willing to let a subject drop so easily you didn’t…well, as Johnny’s dad would say, you didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

~*~ 

Sleeping in the squad at the base camp on Wednesday night hadn’t improved Johnny’s mood any.  Even with the windows open, the heat made sleep impossible to come by other than in short cat naps when either Johnny or Roy were lucky enough to finally doze off. 

Breakfast on Thursday morning was stale coffee cake and luke warm orange juice because a chow wagon hadn’t shown up yet.  Johnny had just made a face after taking his first gulp of juice, when someone approaching from behind the paramedic called his name.

“Hey, Johnny!  Ya’ get to visit the Edward D. Libbey park yet?”

Who the heck is that?

His brow furrowed with puzzlement, Johnny turned around.  He broke into a grin when he caught sight of Pete Peterson walking toward him and Roy.  It felt good to finally be called by name amongst this sea of strangers.

“Hey, Pete, how’s it goin’?”

The man wiped an arm over his soot dotted face.  “Hot and exhausting, that’s how it’s goin’. We’ve been up all night fightin’ this mother.”  Pete nodded at Roy, smiled, and said, “Hi, Roy, how are ya’?” but didn’t wait for an answer as he gulped down first one Styrofoam cup of juice, and then another.

Johnny glanced at the engine Pete had disembarked from.  He saw the logo on the side  - Ventura County 63.   A man wearing a captain’s insignia on his uniform shirt walked toward Chief North, while the rest of the engine’s crew trudged for the table where the coffee cake and juice were spread out.  Johnny recognized the kid he’d seen two days earlier in the high school’s hallway.

“What?” the boy complained. “No coffee?”

A man with a protruding belly, whom Johnny estimated to be forty-one or two, slapped the teenager on the back of the head. “You ain’t old enough for coffee, Baby Bobby.  I’m surprised you’re even weaned from your mama’s tit yet.”

The other men laughed, while Bobby blushed.  Johnny didn’t exactly feel sorry for the boy.  When you were the youngest member in a station, and only eighteen or nineteen to boot, you had to be willing to put up with your share of teasing and pranks.  It came with the territory, and sooner or later, you’d be one of the ‘old guys’, and a new kid would come along to take your place in the pecking order. On the other hand, Johnny well remembered what it was like to be as young as Bobby, and be the guy who was the butt of ninety percent of the jokes.  He gave the kid credit. The boy appeared to know the best way to handle the razzing – ignore most of it, while getting a dig in where he could.

“At least I don’t have a gut the size of yours, Jimbo.” Bobby pointedly stared at the stomach that made Jim look like he was seven months pregnant. “You sure you should be eating that coffee cake?”

As Johnny knew would happen, the joke was now turned on the middle aged guy Bobby had referred to as Jimbo.  The bantering and teasing continued, each man getting his share of it, as the crew ate and drank.  When things had quieted a bit, Pete introduced Johnny and Roy to his co-workers.

“The kid who’s not old enough to shave is Bobby Jordan.  You guys saw him at the school the other day.  Standin’ next to him is our engineer, Hector Rodriguez.  Don’t let the grumpy look he’s wearin’ scare you any. He’s not a morning person.”

“What I’m not, amigo,” Hector growled, “is a morning person after I’ve been up all night.”

Pete chuckled, then pointed to the last man. “And the guy trying to shove four pieces of coffee cake in his mouth at once is Jim Moore.  Guys, these are paramedics from L.A. County - John Gage and Roy DeSoto.”

“Paramedics, huh?” Jim questioned as he licked icing from his fingers.  “Bet Smitty didn’t exactly welcome you guys with open arms.”

Before Johnny could say anything that would be less than diplomatic, Roy jumped in. 

“He seemed happy just to have the extra help.”

Johnny shot his partner a look of, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ while Jim laughed. “Yeah, I just bet he did.”

Before the conversation could progress, the captain who had been conferring with Chief North approached the table. He grabbed a slice of coffee cake and a cup of juice; giving just a brief nod to the paramedics he didn’t know, before turning his attention to his crew.

“We’ve got our assignment, guys.  Finish eating.  We need to head out as soon as possible.”

“Finish eating?” Jim questioned. “Cap, I haven’t started yet.”

The captain patted the big man’s stomach. “Looks to me like you have.”

Everyone laughed while Jim sputtered, “No…what I mean is…what I mean is this shit tastes like cardboard.”

“Or just plain old shit,” Hector added.

“My sister cooks better than this,” Bobby contributed, “and she flunked Home Ec last year.”

“Yeah, Cap,” Pete agreed, “you can’t call this a meal.”

“Unfortunately, that’s what we have to call it for the time being.” Captain Spencer swallowed the last of his juice.  “Let’s get a move on. They’re not paying us to stand around and rate the food.”

“Damn good thing too,” Jim mumbled. He grabbed one last piece of coffee cake, then lumbered to catch up with Bobby, who was already climbing into one of the rear facing seats on the engine.

Pete was still chuckling at his co-workers as he turned to say goodbye to Johnny and Roy.

“Good seein’ you guys. Take care a’ yourselves.”

“You too, Pete,” Johnny said.

“See ya’,” Roy called.

As Pete climbed on the engine he looked back at Johnny.  “And hey, Johnny! I’ll get you to that park yet before you head home. My six-year-old daughter says the merry-go-round is the best thing there.”

“Okay!  I’ll take her word for it.”

The paramedics waved to Pete as the engine rumbled out of the base camp.  A slight smile lit Johnny’s face.  The men’s easy conversation and good-natured teasing reminded him of the relationship the Station 51 A-shift shared, and admittedly, made him just a tad home sick.

“They seem like nice guys,” Roy commented.

 

“Yeah, they do.”

“Hope things go good for them today.”

“Me too,” Johnny agreed. He looked up at the sky and saw the thick clouds of smoke rising from burning acreage that wasn’t more than five miles away. “Doesn’t look like this fire’s gettin’ any easier to fight.”

Roy scanned the horizon. “No, it sure doesn’t.” 

Roy was finally the one to mention the business of the day.

“Come on. We’d better go man the first aid table.”

Johnny scowled.  “Can’t ya’ think of something better for us to do?”

“I can, but I doubt if Chief North will approve of it, so we’ll probably both be better of if he sees us doing the job he assigned us, rather than standing around looking up at the sky.”

Johnny sighed, but kept his comments to himself regarding another boring day being ahead of them, as he followed his partner to the table.  

~*~

The morning passed even slower than snail’s pace for John Gage, if such a thing was possible.  It was a few minutes past noon – just about the same time the Engine 51 crew was responding to the bomb threat - and Johnny was mulling over several things.  Like what his shift mates were doing, and if he even cared about eating a boring sandwich made with Wonder Bread and donated by some store, or if he should just skip lunch, despite his rumbling stomach.

“I wish we’d stayed back in L.A.,” Johnny grumbled as he sat behind the table with his partner.  “The rest a’ the guys are lucky.”

“How so?”

“ ‘Cause they don’t have to be here.”

Roy turned his head in order to hide his smile from Johnny.  The man could drive him nuts one minute, and make him laugh the next. Right now, a little humor was appreciated.  If nothing else, it broke up their tedious routine.  Roy knew that Johnny wasn’t making light of a serious situation when it came to the fire and the threat it imposed on the area.  Johnny simply got bored easily, and was the kind of high-energy person who liked to stay busy.  Sitting behind a table watching other people work while waiting for a little excitement to come his way was not John Gage’s style.

Roy lightly smacked his partner’s upper arm.  “Come on.”

“Come on where?”

“Let’s go grab somethin’ to eat.”

“I don’t think I can stomach another sandwich made with some kinda Oscar Meyer lunch meat I can’t identify.”

“Sure you can,” Roy said as he headed toward the area where food was spread out on a table, followed by his reluctant partner.  “Besides, if we don’t eat now, it’s hard to say when we might get the chance again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe North will have reason to send us out to the fire line before the day is over.”

“Man, you sure have high hopes, Roy.  The only thing North is gonna send us to do is put a bandage on some guy’s boo boo.”

“Well, either way, we’d better eat something.”

“Oh yeah. Gotta keep up my strength in order to irrigate more eyes.”

Roy chuckled, then shook his head as he watched his partner fill a paper plate with three sandwiches. 

For someone who didn’t want to eat, you sure haven’t wasted any time finding your appetite.

That thought was further emphasized when a chow wagon pulled in fifteen minutes later, and Johnny was the first in line to get a hot dog and a Coke.

If nothing else, the hot dog improved Johnny’s mood some as he rejoined Roy at the first aid table in what looked to be shaping up as a long boring afternoon. 

~*~

As the afternoon wore on towards early evening, the wind increased its intensity, whipping up dirt, ash, leaves, and anything not weighted down, making life miserable for the men at the base camp. The canopies they'd erected to shade them from the fierce heat had to be taken down before they were blown down, leaving the men exposed to the smoke filtered sunlight and the irritating grit that managed to find its way into their eyes, mouths, ears, and noses.

Far from being boring, the latter part of the paramedics' day had been filled with a myriad of casualties; from the usual eye irrigations and smoke inhalations, to several more serious cases of burns, and even one firefighter who had suffered a broken leg when he'd taken a fall down a ravine.

A white cargo van, with the county parks and rec logo on it, had just left to take the worst of their patients out of the fire area and onto the hospitals for further treatment. Johnny stood watching the van make its way down the deeply rutted fire road, hoping the bumpy ride wasn't too painful for the men inside. Hopefully, the guys with the burns had enough morphine in them that they wouldn't feel anything.

He felt the sting of the wind against his cheek and turned the other way, letting his hair whip forward to shield his face from the worst of it. He glanced at his partner, and saw that Roy was once more rubbing at his eye.

"That still bothering you?"

Since the school bus rescue, Roy's eyes had been red and irritated, especially the right one, which he was wiping at the moment.

Roy sniffed and nodded. He gave his eye one more swipe with his handkerchief. "It's not too bad. Just annoying."

"Kinda like Chet," Johnny joked, grinning when Roy chuckled in agreement. "Well, when we get back to the command post, let me take a look at it. You might've scratched the cornea."

"I don't think we're gonna get back there any time soon," Roy observed and nodded toward Chief North, who was striding their way. It was hard to tell if the man's face was grim, or if it was just screwed up against the wind.

"Gage, DeSoto," he hailed as he reached them. "Pack up your stuff. I'm sending you out with Engine 27 on a possible search and rescue. The high winds have grounded the choppers, but one of them reported what looked like some hikers trying to get out of the fire area." The older man snorted with disgust. "Why people don't listen when we tell them to evacuate..." He let that thought hang and continued with his instructions. "It's getting pretty thick in places. Don't lose sight of the engine. They'll be your only protection."

"Right, Chief," Roy answered.

"Captain Boyd's waiting for you down the road. Ya’ got five minutes." The chief's radio crackled to life and he moved away to deal with the incoming report.

Johnny couldn't keep down the thrill of excitement as he helped Roy repack the trauma box. They were finally going to be part of the action. No more sitting around first aid tents. True, they had responded to the school bus incident, but that could have been any MVA on the street. This would be their first real involvement with the fire. He knew it shouldn't matter. As Roy kept pointing out, any way they helped, was part of the overall picture. But in Johnny's mind, there was something different about actually being in the middle of the firefighting.

He closed the drug box and scooped it up using one hand, while with the other Johnny grabbed his helmet and Roy’s, both of which had been discarded hours earlier because of the heat and the fact that the paramedics weren’t involved in fighting the fire.  After shoving the boxes and the portable oxygen into their places in the squad, the two paramedics climbed into the truck.  As Roy started the engine, Johnny set the helmets on the seat between them. 

~*~

Johnny and Roy watched the plumes of smoke as they followed Engine 27 up to the area they were now assigned to search. They could tell by the sudden blackening in spots of the gray smoke that covered the sky, that the flames were on the move and reaching unburned trees at a fast pace.

"Man, the wind is really driving that fire," Gage commented.

The senior paramedic glanced at his partner as they turned onto a dirt road leading to part of the south hills. Closer to home was the gray fog-like smoke that blew across their path, occasionally obscuring most of the road and the engine ahead of them. Roy found he had to keep him eyes ahead at all times in order to keep his sights on the red truck. When he spoke to his partner, it was without turning his head.

"You remember what we were talking about?"

"Something to do with not looking a gift horse in the mouth...?"

"Yep. So I guess your dad knew what he was talking about."

Johnny gave a wry grin. "You sound just like him.'"

Roy would've enjoyed the barbing with his partner, but as they bumped and jolted over the little used road, and he squinted through the haze surrounding them, he could only wish he was back home relaxing on the patio with his family.


 

~*~

They covered quite a distance, heading further and further up into the hills. They had passed several groups of firefighters along the way that were on various lines to keep hot spots under control, and from spreading to new ground. Some were trying to create a fire line to burn back to the approaching wildfire, hoping to keep it from gaining territory. Captain Boyd had stopped the engine a couple of times to talk to the crews, but so far no one had seen any civilians in this area.

Roy rubbed his sore eye as he concentrated on the road. Johnny scanned the surrounding brush, trying to spot anyone who didn't belong there. They drove for a few more miles without encountering anyone. Sometimes the road would be clear of any smoke and then, in an instant, their view would be completely obscured. Once, Roy thought he'd lost the engine completely until he heard the air horn. He sounded the squad's own horn to let the captain know they were still behind them.

"Whoa, Roy, hold it, hold it." Johnny's insistent voice caused Roy to brake at the same time he saw a person dart out from a thick group of Manzanita bushes. The man stumbled as he made his way into the small clearing.

"Could be one of the hikers," Johnny speculated. "Wonder if he’s by himself."

Roy pulled the squad off the road and closer to the open, dry grassy field, being careful not to drive into the clearing. The hot underside of the squad could easily spark a new fire in this brittle grass. Johnny quickly jumped out of the squad, grabbing the trauma and drug boxes, while Roy pulled out the mic.

"Engine 27, this is L.A. Team 3. Do you copy?" He watched Johnny head toward the man as he waited for a response. None came. "Engine 27, this is Team 3, do you read me?"

There was still only silence, so Roy gave it up for the moment. He would assess the victim and see if Johnny needed his help before he tried again. Hopefully, Captain Boyd would realize they weren't behind the engine anymore.

Roy climbed out of the squad and trotted over to catch up with Johnny as they approached the dazed hiker. Dressed in blue jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, the man could easily have been mistaken for a firefighter by anyone passing by. That was probably why no one had noticed him until now, or at least if they had noticed him, that was probably why they hadn’t realized he didn’t belong up here.

The man weakly waved them off, as he stepped clumsily away. There was blood in his hair and running down his face. The left side of his neck had bloody streaks as well. His eyes were glassy and held a touch of panic.

"It's okay, sir," Roy said, trying to clam the victim down. "We're going to help you."

Johnny took a quick glance at his partner, then returned his gaze to the injured man, letting his eyes travel down to the hiker's legs. What had at first appeared to be mud, was more than that. The lower half of the man's pants had been scorched away and the skin underneath was blackened with what had to be at least third degree burns. He swayed on his feet as he stood there. It was obvious he wouldn't be standing much longer.

"Roy. . ."

"I know, I know." The senior paramedic had taken in the damaged limbs as well. "I doubt he even feels them. He's in deep shock."

The paramedics continued to slowly approach, reassuring the confused man that they were there to help. The dense smoke and unnatural stillness gave the area a surreal feel, and Roy chanced a glance at the trees and bushes that surrounded the clearing. He could see flames rising about one hundred feet above the trees as they engulfed one after another, hopping across the tops. Although the fire was still a distance away, it was close enough to make this situation definitely urgent. The thought that the engine crew had inadvertently left them behind didn't help make Roy feel any better.


 

~*~

Closer to the main part of the fire, men were being pulled off. The unpredictable wind had shifted again, and between it and the winds the fire itself was creating, the situation had become too dangerous to stay where they were. What containment the firemen had gained in that area was quickly being eaten up with massive flames. As many times as these men had fought fires such as this, it never ceased to amaze them at what precision a fire had. Where many trees could be taken out, right beside them some would remain untouched. The same went for structures in a fire. Trees, bushes, and buildings could be burned all around them, but for some unknown reason one structure could remain standing, virtually looking like it did before the fire came through.

Airdrops had also been called off. The windy conditions were too dangerous for the light planes and helicopters. The main force of firemen was ordered to the southeast, the opposite of the northwest winds.

Captain Kevin Boyd heard the order to relocate over his radio and called in his response, but he got no answer. Several more tries were still fruitless. He leaned his head out the window to take in the area and figured they must be in a dead spot. He turned to Wilkins in the seat behind him.

"Hey, Rob, you see the squad?"

"Not for a little while, Cap. The smoke's been pretty thick."

The captain frowned. He keyed his mic again. "L.A. Team 3, this is Engine 27. Do you read?"

He got the same dead air. He tapped his fingers on the dash a moment as he thought over what to do. He glanced at his engineer. "Scott, stop a minute. See if they catch up with us."

"Right, Cap."

The engine lumbered to a stop. The smoke was blowing across their path, making it hard to see anything. The fire was snaking around behind them, and if they waited here for long, they would be in a precarious position. And if the paramedics had fallen behind or taken a wrong turn due to the poor visibility, they would be in a world of hurt.

"Any sign of them?" he asked hopefully after ten minutes.

"Nothing, Cap," came the answer.

The captain chewed on his lower lip. "Can we turn around, Scotty?" he asked in a low voice.

"Not here, Cap," the engineer replied evenly. "No room. Maybe farther up."

Letting out a sigh of resignation, Captain Boyd motioned for them to continue. Hopefully, they'd find a wider stretch of road so they could turn around to go look for the missing squad. Or at least get out of the dead spot so they could radio their position, and maybe get in touch with the paramedics.

 

~*~

As Johnny and Roy had feared, the man didn't stay on his feet long. Between the shock from his burns and his head injury, he finally collapsed in a limp heap.

The paramedics rushed over to him, kneeling down in the grass beside the fallen man. Their first order of business was to check his pupils, pulse, and respirations to see if he was stable enough to move. He was semi-conscious, mumbling incoherently, and trembling as he went farther into shock.

"Get a blanket out of the squad," Roy instructed as he shone his penlight in the man's eyes, rechecking his pupils. They were both dilated and unresponsive, and that worried him.

Johnny turned to retrieve the blanket, when he saw flames shooting up between them and the red truck. While they had been occupied with the victim, wind blown embers had landed in the dry grass, starting several spot fires. They were now effectively blocked from the squad. 

Shit!

"Roy, look!"

DeSoto glanced up and saw the unwelcome sight.  He tried not to think of everything they now couldn’t get at, from their helmets, to medical equipment, to the radio, to the Thermos jug of water Johnny had set on the passenger side floor.

Despite all that, Roy’s first concern was still the victim, and he quickly took off his turnout coat. "Here, Johnny, give me a hand." Together, they got the jacket on the man. Even in the extreme heat of the fire, his body needed the extra warmth due to the loss of fluids he had sustained. "This should help keep 'im warm. Help me get him up."

Roy took the man across his shoulders and staggered up under the weight. He glanced back at the squad, then met his partner's eyes. Johnny picked up the drug and trauma boxes, and gave a quick, tight nod.

They had no choice but to go deeper into the brush and trees on the other side of the clearing. If they were lucky, they’d be heading in the right direction to find help, or at least locate an area clear of the fire. They’d be sitting ducks if they stayed here, surrounded by what would soon be more fuel for the fire.

Once a good distance away and on a hillside clear of thick brush, Roy bent down and laid his charge on the grass. He stood for a moment with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. Johnny set the trauma and drug boxes on the brittle grass, and wiped an arm across his sweaty face.

"I can't believe we left the HT in the squad," he stated with disgust at their mistake. "We know better than that."

 

Roy shrugged. "We had no way of knowing things would change so fast. Besides, it may not have been any use. The radio wasn't working."

"Whata' we do now? The engine never saw us stop. No one knows where we are."

”They'll see the squad. . .or what remains of it," Roy said in a solemn tone. "In the meantime," he gestured to the man at their feet, "we do what we can for him and then find the road, unless you have a better idea."

Johnny looked around, seeing nothing but smoke and distant flames.  No firefighters or fire vehicles miraculously appeared. 

“Nope,” Johnny was forced to confess. “I don’t have a better idea. Wish I did, though.”

“Me too,” Roy said, right before the men opened the boxes and set to work.

 

~*~

Captain Spencer’s men had been on and off the engine all day battling hot spots.  They hadn’t traveled too far from the base camp where they’d had breakfast with the two paramedics – maybe ten miles - but it had taken them nearly eleven hours to cover that. Between the rough terrain, and disembarking to fight random grass and brush fires, their progress had been like that of the fabled tortoise  – steady, but slow. 

Jim Moore dug into a pocket of his turnout coat and pulled out a snack-sized box of raisins, while Pete stopped to take a long gulp of water from his canteen.

Jim looked ahead to see Bobby hacking at hotspots with the axe he was carrying.   Sweat ran down the heavy man’s face, causing droplets of soot to stain his turnout coat with round, black droplets.  He loosened the strap on his helmet, pushed the brim back, pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, and mopped his wet brow.

“Doesn’t that kid ever get tired?”

Pete laughed.  “Hell, Jimbo, he’s eighteen.  No one who’s eighteen gets tired.”

“Were we that young once?”

“You bet we were.  And believe it or not, we had that much energy, too.”

Jim shook his head while returning his handkerchief to his pocket.  He and Pete had joined the fire department on the same day, and other than for three years out of their twenty-two year career, had always worked out of the same stations.  They both had numerous friends throughout the department, but they’d each readily admit that they were one another’s best friend.

Pete turned around to see the escape route they’d left open to the engine was still clear.  Not that he expected it wouldn’t be, but with a fire of this magnitude, and winds this strong, you had to be careful.  Conditions could change in seconds, and the way out that looked so safe moments earlier, could hold nothing but death.

The two men moved forward, though at a slower pace than Bobby.  Captain Spencer was behind Bobby a few yards and off to the young man’s right, while Hector was across from Spencer, and to Bobby’s left.  The crew was embedded deep in a dry gulch.  During early spring, this gulch was filled with water that made a free-flowing spring that was banked on both sides by steep slopes of wild flowers, wild grass, trees, and at the very top, rocky ledges. 

Pete had brought his son here in April, when Jeff had to do a science project for his seventh grade teacher that involved collecting flowers and leaves, and then putting them in a scrapbook and properly identifying them.  The whole family had made a day of it.  They’d brought a picnic lunch, and while Pete helped Jeff collect what he needed, his wife had kept an eye on their younger son and daughter.  Danny and Lisa had taken their shoes and socks off, and had waded in the river, while Jean sat on the bank and watched them.  Now, other than a sandy indentation in the ground that looked like a center seam, you couldn’t tell there had ever been water here.

Pete coughed a dry, unproductive cough, and looked around. The smoke was getting thicker, and though the winds were gusting at forty miles an hour, all they carried was stifling hot air.  He’d sure be glad when Spence said they could call it a day.  He wanted a cold shower and a warm meal, but he wasn’t sure they’d be lucky enough to get either of those things.  They’d probably spend the night at a base camp, or maybe right out here in the open. 

It’s a good thing me and Spence hid those sandwiches we picked up from the Red Cross ladies.  If Jim knew there were some left, he’d have ‘em all gone by now. Peanut butter and jelly isn’t my favorite, but I gotta admit, they do hold up pretty well no matter how hot it gets. I guess if we gotta spend another night sleepin’ out here, peanut butter and jelly beats goin’ hungry.

Pete caught sight of Bobby climbing the slope like a mountain goat.

God, what I wouldn’t give to be eighteen right about now.  Kid, if you’re still doin’ this job when you’re my age, you won’t remember what it’s like not to have an aching back after a day like today.

By the look on Jim’s face, Pete knew his overweight friend was thinking the same thing.

“Spence is right, man,” Jim huffed as he swung his axe at a small patch of burning grass and covered it with dirt. “I gotta get some a’ this weight off.”

The department wasn’t too strict about a man’s weight, provided he could pass his annual physical.  But Pete silently acknowledged that Jim was right. The man needed to drop sixty pounds.  His face was bright red, and the sweat never stopped running down Jim’s face.  The kind of exertion this type of firefighting required was hard for Jim to expend.

“Won’t be much longer,” Pete said. “Looks like we’ve got things pretty much under control here.  Spence’ll be deciding where we’re gonna bunk down before long.”

“I hope he says we’re bunking down at the high school.”

Pete chuckled. “Me too. Only I’ve got a feeling we’re not gonna get that lucky.”

“There you go, makin’ my day go to crap with that eternal optimism of yours.”

Pete shot Jim a sideways glance and grinned. “Hey, what’re friends for?”

Before Jim could answer that, they heard a mighty “whoosh!” behind them.  Simultaneously, the entire crew of Station 63’s C-shift spun around.

A chance combination of intense heat and shifting wind patterns had provoked a "blow up." A massive fireball exploded, the flames it spit out crowned the trees, hopping from one tree to another with astonishing speed, and raced over the dry grass.

Pete had only heard of blow-ups. He’d never witnessed one before, and for a few seconds, was rooted in place as he watched their escape route become engulfed in flames.

The fire leapt from one side of the gulch to the other.   It climbed the grassy slopes with speed fueled by the high winds.  Because heat rises, the fire moved even more swiftly than it would have over flat ground.

Pete barely heard Spence’s yell over the roar of the fire.

“Run!  Everyone run, damn it!  Run!”

Curse words flew all around Pete as the crew fled for their lives.  Bobby and Spence had a head start on the rest of the group.  Pete had the vague notion of Bobby, who could easily outrun them all, slowing down so he could follow Captain Spencer, rather than race past him.  Pete saw the two men struggling to run up the steep slope to the right, with flames less than fifty yards behind them. 

Hector had gone in the opposite direction of Spence and Bobby, for no other reason, Pete supposed, than because he’d been on the left side of the gulch.  He saw the man slip twice, but each time Hector got to his feet and kept clawing his way upward.  Pete knew the odds weren’t good for any of them.  Fire could travel up a grassy slope like this faster than a man could run up it – even a man desperate to save his life.

Pete yelled, “Come on!” to Jim, and followed the path Hector had taken. The heat from the fire made it feel like a dragon was blowing flames at his back. For as tempted as Pete was to turn around and see how close the fire was, he didn’t want to look. He kept his eyes straight ahead, sure if he could just keep Hector in sight, they’d make it to safety over the top of the rocky ridge. 

If we can just get to those rocks and then go down hill…if we can run down hill we’ve got a chance.  The rocks’ll slow the fire…might even stop it.  If we just get over that ridge and down the other side…

Pete turned when he could no longer feel Jim beside him.  The big man was lagging behind, a wall of fire roaring at him like a runaway train.

Oh shit.

“Jim, come on! Run!”

Jim strained to move faster, but his weight worked against him. He’d been exhausted before they’d started running.  His body just had nothing left to give.

Pete ran toward his friend, even while Jim waved him off.

“No…no…no…” the large man puffed. “No, Pete…no…”

The heat of the fire scorched Pete’s face as he grabbed Jim by the arm. 

“Come on!” Pete shouted.  “Run!  Damn it, Jim, run!”

Pete pulled his best friend along with him, but the man’s weight was like an anchor that did nothing but provide a heavy drag.

“Run, Jimmy!  Run!”

Hector Rodriguez turned around when he heard the screams.  A wall of orange and red flames rolled forward like an ocean wave, obliterating Pete Peterson and Jim Moore from view. 

~*~

Johnny and Roy did what they could for the hiker, but with no way to contact the hospital, they couldn't set up any IV's to replace his lost fluids. In the end, what they could do seemed woefully lacking. The man's vitals were depressed, and between the blood loss and his burns, his odds for survival would be chancy in a hospital, much less out here in the wilderness.

Roy wiped at his eyes as wind blew ashes through the air. A sudden gust of wind caused him to turn away from it, feeling the needle sharp grit that blew into his face. Suddenly, his right eye began to sting and burn. Roy brought the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to rub out whatever had gotten into them, but that only made it worse. He couldn't open either eye. With tears streaming from his eyes and nose, the senior paramedic stood up and backed away from where he had been squatting.

"Roy?" Johnny looked up in alarm, just in time to see his partner take a tumble down the rocky hillside. "Roy! Roy!"

Johnny jumped to his feet and rushed to the edge of the hill, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight of his partner lying motionless at the bottom. He spared one glance at the hiker. The paramedic knew there wasn't anything else he could do for the man, but years of training still made it hard to leave a victim. Right now though, Roy needed him more. Johnny scooped up the trauma box and did a side ways trot down the rocky incline as fast as he dared. He could hear his partner's voice in his head, telling him to slow down and be careful.

You can't help anybody if you break your neck.

He slowed his pace only slightly, and in a few moments, slid to a halt on his knees at Roy's side.

 

"Roy?"

Johnny reached out to feel for a carotid, breathing a relieved sigh when he found it there. His hands then moved to discover exactly what Roy had done to himself.

The older paramedic's face was scratched and bloodied with wounds that seemed largely superficial, but as Johnny's hands moved over the back of Roy's head, he found a large knot, and a deep, bleeding gash. That probably accounted for his partner's lack of consciousness. He grabbed his penlight to do a quick check of Roy's pupils. The left one was normal and responsive to light, but the right one was harder to check. It was red and swollen, and Johnny tried to be extra careful as he lifted the puffy lid. Roy's iris seemed bluer than normal, contrasted with the red and irritated sclera. But the pupil still contracted against the intrusion of Johnny's light. That was a good sign.

He next checked for neck and spinal injuries. Everything seemed all right, but he wouldn't know for sure until Roy woke up and demonstrated whether or not he could move his limbs. As Johnny moved further down and palpated Roy's chest and abdomen, his partner groaned in response. The younger paramedic bit his lip in consternation. Pain in those areas could be anything from cracked ribs to internal injuries.

"Roy? Can you hear me? Roy?"

He got a groan in response, and took heart at that as he grabbed a 4x4 and some Curlex out of the trauma box. Johnny set about dressing his partner's head wound, talking to him the entire time.

"Come on, Roy, ya gotta wake up now. Can you hear me? Come on, Roy. Now's not the greatest time to lay down and take a nap."

Roy moaned again, a little louder this time and his eyes fluttered open.

Well, one eye, Johnny corrected himself. The right one never did make it all the way.

"Hey, partner," Johnny greeted, trying his best to sound upbeat. "You with me?"

Roy's left eye wandered a bit before it settled on Johnny. Even then it still had a glassy quality to it that left the younger paramedic worried.

"Jo... Johnny? Wha... what..." Roy tried to lift his head, but Johnny held him back.

"Lie still a minute, Pally," he ordered softly. "I'm not done with you yet." He gave his partner a grin, but Roy didn't really respond to it, and the smile faded from Johnny's face. "You gave yourself a pretty good knock in the head," he said, still trying to keep his tone light. "You hurt anywhere else?"

It took Roy a moment to process the question, but then Johnny recognized the assessing expression.

"Ah... my... my head hurts," Roy mumbled.

"Yeah, I know that already," Johnny encouraged. He glanced down at his partner's left arm. It was scratched and bleeding too, and Roy had now curled it against his stomach in a protective gesture. "Roy? Does your arm hurt?" He reached out to feel along the limb, trying to see for himself.

"My... my arm?" Roy echoed in confusion, then yelped and tried to move away when Johnny's hands encountered his wrist, and then his elbow.

"I'll take that as a yes," Johnny murmured. He turned to the trauma box and scratched his head. Most of their splints were kept in a separate box, but they did have a few things here he might be able to use, at least to keep Roy's arm immobile for now. The main thing was to be sure his partner wasn't injured to the extent that he couldn't walk. With the way this fire kept shifting and changing direction, there was no telling how much hiking they were going to have to do before they found their way out of here, or else ran into someone who could help them.

Johnny set about doing what he could, binding Roy's arm to his side, cleaning out the deeper cuts and abrasions, plus he soaked a pad in some saline and bandaged Roy's swollen eye. He had no way of knowing what was really wrong with the eye, but he didn't want to risk any permanent damage to it.

As John worked, he noticed Roy was fading in and out on him, sometimes lucid and responding to Johnny's questions, more often mumbling incoherently. Concerned, Johnny checked his partner's pupils again, and this time the left one was showing signs of dilation.

"Damn it!" Johnny hissed softly. Roy was never going to be able to walk out on his own, not in the condition he was in, but there was no way Johnny could carry both the hiker and Roy.

He glanced up at the top of hill. He could still see smoke, but it seemed to be blowing away from them for the moment. He made a decision and got to his feet.

"Hang on, Roy, I'll be right back."

He didn't know if his partner even heard him, but he didn't wait. He headed back up the rocky hill. By the time Johnny reached the top, he was winded. He took a moment to catch his breath and gauge the progress of the fire. Sure enough, the wind seemed to be taking it away from them. Thankful for whatever fortune they could get, Johnny stooped down by the injured hiker and rechecked the man's vitals.

He frowned at what he found, and realized that if they didn't get help soon, he wouldn't have to worry about caring for both this man and Roy. It wasn't a pleasant thought, and Johnny pushed it from his mind as he carefully maneuvered the now-unconscious man over his shoulder. Groaning a bit with the weight, Johnny got to his feet, somehow managing to grab the drug box with one hand. He shifted his burden a bit for better balance, not happy with the lack of response he got from his victim to all of this movement. The man should be in extreme pain from his burns, but he wasn't making any sound.

Not having any other choice, Johnny began a slow, cautious descent. The hiker was average size, but the weight of a full-grown man on his shoulders began to tell, and by the time Johnny reached the bottom and eased the man down onto the ground beside Roy, his back and neck were aching.

Johnny sat back for a moment, rolling his head onto his right shoulder and then his left, trying to work out the kinks.

"Johnny?"

He was at Roy's side in a shot. His partner's eye was open, and seemed clear for now.

"Hey, Pally," Johnny greeted with a smile. "How ya’ feelin'?"

"Mmm..." Roy licked his lips before he continued. "My... my head hurts pretty... pretty bad."

"Well, that's what you get for using it to test the rocks around here." Johnny tried to make light of the situation and grinned when he got a small smile from his partner.

"Fi... fire?" Roy's face grew concerned, and his gaze moved around as if looking for any sign of flames.

"We're okay for now," Johnny assured him. "Wind's taking it the other way."

Roy's eye closed for a moment. "Good," he breathed, then his eyes opened again and Johnny saw a shiver course through his partner's battered body.

"Roy!" Johnny couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

"C...cold," the older paramedic mumbled without opening his eye.

Cold.

That could only mean one thing. Roy was going into shock. That pointed to internal bleeding. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, Johnny tore at the fastenings to his turnout coat, cursing the sudden clumsiness of his fingers. At last he got the hooks undone and tore the jacket off.

Slipping one arm under Roy's shoulders, Johnny lifted his partner slightly, and awkwardly slipped the bulky coat around him. He slipped Roy's right arm into the sleeve, but for the left, Johnny merely pulled the coat around the injured shoulder. It was all he could do for now, and once more he cursed at how inadequate it was. He could see Roy's body still shivering. Johnny plopped down in the dry grass, and let his head fall into his hands in defeat.

Damn it, Roy. Don't do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me.
 

~*~

Captain Boyd scanned the area as Engine 27 moved slowly back along the winding dirt road.  The thickening cloud of smoke was making it difficult to see, but the firemen were watching closely for any sign of the missing squad.  Even though he didn’t know the L.A. County paramedics personally, they had been assigned to his company today, giving the captain a sense of responsibility for their well-being.

“You’d think we’d see ‘em by now, Cap,” Wilkins muttered.

“Yeah . .”

The engine neared the crest of a ridge, and four worried men stared forward anxiously in the hope that they would be granted a better view.   Instead, the group echoed a chorus of expletives as the engine skidded to a stop.

“Get us outta here!”  Boyd shouted unnecessarily. 

Scotty was already throwing the big rig into reverse; backing down the hill and away from the wall of flames.  Silence lay heavily inside the cab as they retraced their path, until finally, the captain gave voice to their thoughts.

“Sure hope those poor devils didn’t get caught in that.”

~*~

“How’s he . .  doing?”

Johnny looked up in relief at the sound of his partner’s voice.  It was obvious that Roy was barely conscious, but he seemed to be aware of what was happening; a good sign, in Johnny’s opinion.  Although his initial impulse was to hurry over to his friend, Johnny knew his first responsibility was to the patient he was currently treating.  So, with a slight frown, he answered while turning his attention back to the IV he was starting.

“Not good.”

With skilled precision, Johnny adjusted the IV drip, and rechecked the man’s vitals before sitting back on his heels.   He met Roy’s intense gaze, and nodded slightly.

“Yeah, I know.  It’s against regulations, but what else could I do?”

“Noth  . . nothing.”

“It could mean the end of my career. . .”

“Could. .”

Johnny dropped his head slightly as he studied Roy’s expression.  It was obvious that his friend was in a lot of pain, and even with Johnny’s coat draped around him, the older man was still shivering.  Like their patient, Roy was going into shock, and instinctively, Johnny knew that he would treat his partner if necessary – and without instructions or permission from some doctor at a hospital.  How could he do less for this other man?  The poor guy was already in bad shape. Hell, the IV probably wouldn’t make a difference, but he had to try.

A low moan stirred Johnny into action, and he scooted over to kneel next to his partner. 

“Roy?  What is it?”

“Head . . hurts . .  gettin’ worse.”

With his hand on Roy’s wrist, Johnny counted the beats while continuing to study his partner.  He held on a few minutes longer than necessary, not wanting to break the contact.  But as Roy’s eyes slid closed again, Johnny pulled his coat tighter around his friend’s shoulders, then stood and turned away.

Eyeing the wall of smoke, he was grateful that the wind was still keeping the blaze moving away from them.  If their luck held maybe someone would spot them.  There had been airplanes and helicopters all over that area earlier; surely there would be water drops ordered for this new outbreak.  Still, there’d been no sign of any aircraft since they left the squad . . how long ago was that? 

Of course, there had been numerous firefighters along the road as they made their way up the hill.  Maybe...if he could make his way back to them...With a groan of frustration, Johnny kicked at a rock in front of him. 

“Go...John.”

Whirling around, Johnny stared at his partner in surprise.  It was uncanny, how Roy seemed to know exactly what he’d been thinking. 

“I’m not leavin’ you here, Roy, so just forget about it.”

“Got to . . only chance.”

“Roy . .”

“Go...now...before it’s too...too late.”

Johnny wanted to scream in frustration.  He was caught in a situation that every firefighter dreaded, and one that no rulebook would supply the answer for.  They’d been trained to stay together, and if Roy had been the only one lying at his feet, Johnny would’ve put his partner across his shoulders in a ‘fireman’s carry’ and made a run for it long ago.  But the second victim made that impossible.  There was no way that Gage could manage to carry two critically injured men, even if they could be moved.  No, they had to stay put until help could get to them. 

But that help could be a long time coming.  No one knew where the squad had pulled off the road, and with no HT or bio-phone, there was no way to contact the outside world.  All that was left was three men – two with serious injuries - alone on a burning hillside.  Johnny was their only hope of rescue, and as much as he hated the idea, he knew that he would have to make the attempt.  What Johnny didn’t know was how he could live with himself if something should happen to Roy while he was gone.  How could he ever face Joanne and the kids again, if he didn’t make it back to his partner in time?

“ . will be . . all right . .Junior. .”

Attempting to keep his tone light, Johnny squatted back down by his partner, and flashed his crooked grin.

“Tryin’ to get ridda me, huh?  What’s wrong, don’t ya’ like my bedside manner?”

“Not like . .Dix.”

“Yeah, well, ya’ gotta admit, mine’s better than Morton’s.”

A shallow cough was Roy’s aborted laugh, and Johnny quickly grabbed the man’s hand.

“Hang on, Roy.”

“mmm . . tired . . “

”I know, but you need to stay awake.”

“ . .tell Jo . . . I . .”

“No way.  I’m not telling Joanne anything.  You’re gonna do that yourself.”

Johnny swallowed hard before continuing.

“Listen, Roy.  If you want me to go looking for help while you lay here and rest, then you have to promise me something.  You’ve gotta hang on . . for your wife and kids.  Okay?  Roy?”

“Yeah . . okay . .”

“I mean it, Roy.  If I go for help, you’ll stay awake.  Do we have a deal?” 

“Deal . .”

The blue eyes slid shut, but Roy was still squeezing his partner’s hand.  While his eyes remained closed, he managed to speak faintly.

“I’ll be here . .”

“I’m holding you to that, partner.”

Reluctantly, Johnny released Roy’s hand and stood up.  After checking on the other man, he looked around the area once more, and then trotted across the clearing.  Johnny focused on the rocky landscape as he hurried to find help, resisting the urge to look back at his friend.  He knew that if he glanced back, he’d never be able to go on.

~*~

The roaring seemed to be closer, and Roy choked back a cry of pain and frustration as he pushed himself up on one elbow.  He’d managed to stay awake for quite awhile after Johnny left, but somewhere during that time, he’d faded out.  Now, he didn’t have any idea how much time had passed.  What he did know was that the wind must have shifted, and the fire was moving closer.   Forcing himself to sit up, Roy stared at the man they’d tried to rescue; then groaned out loud.  Holding his injured arm with his good one, Roy moved close enough to grasp the man’s wrist with trembling fingers.  It only took a moment to confirm what he’d already known. 

‘Poor guy, you didn’t have a chance, did you?’

It took some maneuvering, but Roy finally got to his feet.  Swaying slightly, he clutched Johnny’s coat tightly around him as he gazed up the hillside, stunned at the proximity of the blaze.

‘Gotta get . . outa here . .’

With a last glance at the man they’d tried to save, Roy turned and headed off in the direction Johnny had taken.  His steps were slow and staggered, each movement pure agony.  His injuries caused him to stop often to rest; still, he managed to stay upright and moving forward.  But it wasn’t long before the pounding in his head became unbearable, and the horizon before him was no longer a clear image.  Instead, everything looked as if it were moving slowly in some kind of eerie dance.  It took every ounce of willpower Roy had to keep going, when all he really wanted to do was lay down and rest.

Unsure of how far he’d traveled, Roy continued to study the terrain as he took each step, making sure that his foot would land on even ground.  He refused to look back, knowing intuitively that the fire was gaining on him.  The only sound he allowed himself to hear was the memory of his partner’s voice as it echoed in his mind:  “You’ve gotta hang on... for your wife and kids.”   

I’m trying, Johnny.  I’m trying.

Unknowingly, Roy was steadily following Johnny’s path, but with one misstep, his feeble attempts crashed to the ground.  As he stared up at the smoky sky, Roy’s last conscious thought was not for the partner he’d failed, but for the family that was waiting anxiously in Carson for him to return.

I’m sorry, Jo... 

~*~ 

Johnny felt like he was racing against death itself.  With two men depending on him, there was no time to stop for rest, so he charged across the clearing and into the brush.  At first he was cautious, watching the path carefully as he sped over the rocky ground.  But as he grew tired, winded, and hot, his ability to focus faltered.

The wind had shifted again, its invisible movement changing the course of the fire once more.  The sky was a grayish brown, the blue no longer visible above the cloud of smoke.  Bits of ash filled the air, and Johnny’s chest hurt from constant coughing as the debris irritated his lungs.  

Unable to keep up the pace, the winded paramedic finally stopped to rest, bending over with his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. Moments later, Johnny resumed his journey.  He pushed himself to hurry, dodging scrub brush and small trees as he rushed forward.   Always in the back of his mind was a vision of Roy lying unconscious at the bottom of a rocky hill. 

Gotta keep going...  

Startled by the sight of rabbits, chipmunks, and field mice fleeing all around him, Johnny knew that meant just one thing – the fire wasn’t far behind.

Reaching a gradual slope, Johnny barely slowed as he navigated the rocky grade, but a loud cracking off to his left caused him to pause.  The fire was hopping through the treetops, and was now parallel to him.  The paramedic clawed his way to the top of the slope, paused again, and looked around.  He was on higher ground now, but saw no men, no fire trucks, no base camp, and no heavy equipment of any kind.  Johnny gulped for air while lifting the hem of his T-shirt.  He used it to wipe the sweat from his face, while trying not to think about how much he’d love a drink of water.

The paramedic turned around twice in an attempt to get his bearings.  Unfortunately, that act did him no good. If he and Roy had been in this area before, the fire had altered the way the landscape looked.  Therefore, John had no idea how close he might be to a road, or to a base camp.   Hollering wouldn’t benefit him, because he’d never be heard over the roar of the wind and flames.

Johnny stood there a moment longer as he tried to decide the best course of action.   He could backtrack to Roy and their victim, but what good would that do him, since the most important thing Roy and the hiker needed now was to get to a hospital?  Pressing on appeared to be Johnny’s only choice, though he admitted to himself it was difficult to know what the right decision was. Help could be just over the next ridge, or everyone who had been in the area might have been ordered out long ago, and wouldn’t return for hours…or even days, depending on the path the fire took, and where the men fighting it were needed the most.  At the moment, it looked like a no-win situation to Johnny.  He might not find help if he continued to travel farther away from Roy, but at the same time, help might not find Roy and Johnny, if Johnny returned to wait by Roy’s side.

Damn, damn, damn. What the hell should I do now?

Johnny looked up to see flames engulfing the trees on his distant left. 

Funny you should mention hell, Gage.  And speaking of that, I think it’s time to get the hell outta here.

Johnny started running again, then slowed to the pace of a steady hike when he finally realized that all running was going to do was wear him out.  He continued to be vigilant, monitoring the path of the fire, while at the same time hoping to spot a crew somewhere in the area.

The paramedic estimated he’d put five to six miles between himself and Roy, and well over two hours of travel time by foot, when he came to a thick grove of burned-out trees.  No green remained, making the spindly trees look like blackened match sticks someone had shoved into the scorched ground.

The grove was so wide that Johnny saw no way to hike around it.  Or at least not any way that wouldn’t involve miles of walking that might ultimately do nothing for him but force him to keep walking.  Johnny looked up and around, trying to get his bearings again.  It was growing dark, that fact being hastened by the smoke filled sky.  If he was correct, and John wasn’t certain he was, but if his instincts were right, then he recognized this area.  He was only a mile or so away from the base camp he and Roy had been sent to on Wednesday – Base Camp 4.  And if his instincts were on the money, then once he got through these trees, he wouldn’t be far from the place where he and Roy had rescued the occupants of the school bus.  There was a fire road just beyond that point, and a main highway not far beyond there.  For the first time since leaving Roy’s side, Johnny felt confident that, within the next hour or two, he’d run across someone who could help him.

The paramedic hurried through the trees, keeping a careful watch for hotspots on the ground.  He didn’t see any small fires burning, and the heat within the tightly packed grove didn’t feel any worse than the heat outside of it, meaning the fire had roared through at least twenty-four hours earlier. 

Johnny plunged on, twigs snapping beneath his boots.  The sudden ‘pop!’ came so swiftly that the man had to make a decision in the same second he processed the meaning of the noise. He knew what it was and started running, but when another series of ‘pop!’ ‘pop!’ ‘pop’s!’ occurred again, he had no time to figure out if he was moving away from the tree that had a fire raging within its trunk caused by smoldering wood, sparks, and spontaneous combustion, or toward it.

Johnny heard an explosive ‘crack!’ like gunfire, along with powerful ‘boom!’ then the sound of a tree hitting other trees. Already made fragile by the fire, the trees fell one onto another like dominos, each tree collapsing to the ground in succession.  Sizzling bark showered Johnny’s face. He closed his eyes and threw his arms up to protect them.  He kept running, which might have been foolish considering he couldn’t see, though as trees fell all around him, Johnny knew it would be just as foolish to stop. 

When the tip of the tree hit Johnny between his shoulder blades, the only thought he had was, “Thank God it’s not burning.”  The force of the falling timber flung the paramedic to the ground. He tumbled, rolling over to land on his back, as the top quarter of the thin tree fell with a ‘thunk!’ across his thighs.   Branches dug into Johnny’s arms, chest, and face, but remarkably enough, those injuries were more painful than any to his legs, which caused Johnny to panic a brief moment as he wondered if he’d incurred spinal cord damage. The paramedic struggled to sit up and push the tree off his lower body, then just as quickly admonished himself.

Calm down, Gage. Calm down.  That’s what you’d tell a victim in your position, so just cool it.

Johnny couldn’t open his eyes more than part way.  Whether he had hot ashes in them, or just bits of bark, he didn’t know. All he did know was that they hurt like hell and were watering like crazy.  He cried out as he tried to move again. That’s when he realized his left shoulder was dislocated.  Whether that had happened when the tree hit him, or when he fell, the paramedic wasn’t sure, and overall, it made little difference.  Unless he could squirm out from under the tree, nothing was going to make much difference, because he was in one hell of a predicament.

Johnny spent fifteen minutes doing everything he could think of to free himself. He dug at the dirt with his right hand, hoping to make enough of an indention that his legs would drop down and he could shimmy from beneath the tree.  When that didn’t work, he used his right hand and elbow to try and push his body out from under the tree.  When that didn’t work, he strained to lift the tree with his legs and right arm.  All he got for his efforts was increased pain, exhaustion, and dehydration.  He finally allowed his upper body to collapse back to the ground.  He panted for breath as sweat ran down his dirt smudged face.

I blew it Roy.  I screwed up.  Runnin’ around out here in the middle of God knows where, not prepared for fightin’ a fire.  No shovel, no handie talkie, no water.  Three things I’d give a year’s pay for right about now.   I let you down, Roy. Damn it, I let you down.  And Joanne…oh God…what will happen to Jo and kids? What the hell will happen to them?

Despite the darkness that was now surrounding Johnny, the air temperature didn’t cool down any, or at least not that the paramedic noticed.  He tried not to think of water, the searing pain in his eyes, the way the tree’s branches were poking his arms and chest like dull needles, and the tremendous throb of his displaced left shoulder.  He swallowed what saliva he had and tried to rest.  He had no other choice, because when morning came, he had to be strong enough to call for help, and alert enough to listen for the sound of men, trucks, and machinery.

Johnny didn’t know how long he laid there that night praying that if help could only be given to either Roy or him, that it was Roy who was found first.  It might have seemed like a profoundly unselfish wish to someone who didn’t know John Gage, but as far as he was concerned, that’s what friendship was all about. He’d been going to get help for his best friend and had failed at the task, so now help should be given to Roy before it was given to Johnny.  It wasn’t an issue of Johnny feeling he needed to be punished for what he perceived as his failure to Roy, but simply a reflection of the man’s desire that Roy be all right, and return healthy and whole to his wife and children.

Johnny’s pain kept him from sleeping that night, though twice as the hours dragged on he slipped into the oblivion of unconsciousness.  When he woke up to a sweltering gray dawn, the first thing he did was yell, “Help!” and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach over the way the sound came out in a raspy, weak croak.

~*~

Thursday was as sweltering in Los Angeles as it was in Ojai.  Joanne had stood in front of the television that morning fanning herself with a Ladies Home Journal, while watching the weather report, and then an update on the Ojai brushfire.  The weatherman said the heat wave would hang on at least through the weekend. That information dashed Joanne’s hopes of seeing the mercury dip to at least eighty-five.   

The blond-haired news reporter stationed in Ojai was standing in front of Edward D. Libby High School, which Joanne knew was the main command post before the young newsman stated that fact.  He spoke of how thick the air was with smoke, something Joanne could easily see as the camera panned the area, then said that residents with breathing problems, or chronic health conditions, were being urged to stay in air-conditioned homes, or seek shelter at the local hospital.

Joanne knew it was foolish to hope she’d catch a glimpse of Roy; therefore she wasn’t too disappointed when, amongst the few men the camera allowed her to see coming and going from the high school, none were identifiable as her husband.   Roy had told her the previous afternoon that he and Johnny were being sent to a base camp.  Because of that, Joanne knew it was unlikely that Roy and Johnny had returned to the high school yet.  After all, less than eighteen hours had passed since she’d spoken with him. 

Joanne had shut the T.V. off then and finished her morning chores.  Not wanting to face another hot day confined to the house and yard, and knowing the kids needed a break from this routine, too, she called them in from outside. She supervised Chris washing his hands and putting on a clean shirt, while she took Jennifer’s hair out of the ponytail that was coming apart, brushed it, and put it back in a ponytail again – albeit a neater one.  She washed Jen’s face and hands, and also had her put on a clean shirt.  Once the kids looked presentable, Joanne grabbed her purse and herded the children to the station wagon.

A trip to Kmart for a few school supplies was just what they needed.  The store was air-conditioned, unlike Joanne’s house and car.  That alone made the trip worth it.  Joanne breathed a sigh of relief when the cool air hit her.  She got a cart, lifted Jennifer into it and told her to sit down, and allowed Chris to stand on the rear rung and hang on the end as she headed for the Back-to-School aisle.  She had been buying the kids school supplies little by little since mid-July, because that was easier on the household budget.  They didn’t get too much on this trip, but you wouldn’t have known it based on how happy Chris and Jen were when they each got to pick out a box of 16 count Crayola Crayons, a package of loose leaf paper, and pencil boxes – one with a picture of the Brady Bunch for Jenny, and one with the Hot Wheels logo for Chris. 

The next stop was in the boys’ clothing department, where Chris got a package of socks and a package of underwear, and then to the girls’ clothing department, where socks and underwear were picked up for Jennifer. 

Jennifer sat in the cart clutching all of her new things to her chest, as Joanne headed for the row of cash registers.  Since this would be Jenny’s first year of school, she was far more excited about the prospect of the new school year starting than her brother, who had told Joanne several days earlier that he wished “summer could go on and on forever and ever.”  Joanne spotted other mothers waiting to check out with children and school supplies in tow, and she could only assume they were as anxious as she was to see the routine school brought return to their lives.

They stopped at a McDonald’s for lunch, which allowed for an additional forty minutes in an air-conditioned building. On the way home, Joanne spotted a sign for a yard sale and pulled against the curb.  Though Chris balked a bit about this stop, Joanne pointed a finger at him, and said sternly, “Behave yourself, young man.” She took Chris and Jennifer by the hand and led them down the sidewalk to the house that had tables filled with toys, clothing, lamps, pictures, dishes, and just about any other household item you could think of. 

The thrifty young mother was proud of herself when, a half hour later, she was walking away with a grocery bag of children’s clothing she’d given three dollars for.  She’d gotten two pairs of like-new Tough Skins jeans for Chris, along with two shirts, and for Jennifer she’d bought a sundress, a white turtleneck to wear under the dress on chilly days, and a pair of pink jeans with a matching pink and white stripped top.  Along with clothing she’d purchased when Kmart had a half-price sale two weeks earlier, the kids were set for the new school year now with the exception of shoes, and a few miscellaneous items like paste, erasers, and folders.  For an additional thirty cents at the yard sale, Joanne had gotten Jennifer a Barbie Doll to add to her collection, and two Hot Wheels cars for Chris, which had cut down on his grumbling considerably.  At the young age of seven, he already had a short endurance for shopping, like most males seemed to.

Joanne hadn’t expected Roy to call on Thursday evening, so tried to convince herself she wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t.  The kids had played outside with their neighborhood friends until suppertime.  Given the temperature, Joanne kept the meal simple.  Grilled cheese sandwiches and watermelon slices for the children, and a tossed salad and slice of watermelon for herself.  The kids had gone back outside after eating, though not without Chris saying, “If Dad calls, will you come get me?  I wanna talk to him.”

“If he calls, I’ll come and get you,” Joanne had promised, “but since he called yesterday afternoon, I don’t know if he’ll call tonight.  Remember, he and Uncle Johnny were being sent to a base camp.”

“What’s a base camp?” Jennifer asked.

“It’s some place by the fire,” Chris supplied.

“But I don’t want Daddy to be by the fire. He might get burned.”

“He’s a fireman, stupid.  ‘A course he’s gonna be by the fire.”

“Chris, don’t call your sister stupid – or anyone else for that matter - or you’ll spend tomorrow in the house with me.”  Joanne turned to her daughter, her tone changing from one of stern, to one of reassurance.   “Daddy can take care of himself, honey.  He’s been a fireman for a long time now. He knows what he’s doing.”

“And Uncle Johnny? Will he be fine, too?”

“Uncle Johnny will be fine, too.  Like your daddy, your Uncle Johnny’s been a fireman for a long time. Besides, he and Daddy will look out for one another, don’t you think?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay then, you and Chris go back outside.  Don’t leave the yard unless you come and tell me where you’re going.”

Joanne heard two, “Okays,” and watched the kids scamper across the deck, down the stairs, and head for the swing set.

As Joanne had predicted to her son, Roy didn’t call that night.  She didn’t make the kids come in until it was growing dark, because she couldn’t see the point in cooping them up in a stuffy, warm house.  After they’d had their baths and a snack, they slept on Joanne’s bedroom floor, because with only one large fan, this was the easiest way for all of them to stay cool.  Joanne positioned the fan in the doorway in an attempt to give both herself and the kids the benefit of it, but still, she tossed and turned all night due to the heat.  She envied the children who, like most kids, seemed able to sleep through any discomfort.

As Joanne went about her housework on Friday morning, she willed the phone to ring. When it finally did at ten o’clock, it wasn’t Roy on the other end of the line, but rather, Joanne’s friend Theresa.  The woman wanted Joanne to meet her and her children at a community pool a few miles away.  On Fridays, admittance was just ten cents per person.  That meant the pool was generally crowded, but the price always appealed to young mothers who were looking for a cheap way to entertain their kids.

“Pack a lunch and meet us in the picnic area at noon.”

While Joanne didn’t want to be away from the phone in the event Roy called, she also knew she couldn’t be held hostage by the thought that he might call…because he might not either.  If he was still at the base camp, then there was no way she’d hear from him, and if he and Johnny had been sent to a fire line, then she wouldn’t hear from him either.  If he got back to the school and tried to call her but didn’t reach her, he’d keep trying for as long as he could.  That last thought made Joanne say, “All right, we’ll meet you there at noon.  I don’t know how long we’ll stay, though.  Probably not much past three – four at the latest.  I want to be here if Roy calls.”

“He’ll call back if he can’t get a hold of you.”

“I know, but he’s up in Ojai fighting that brush fire. It’s not easy for him to get to a phone.”

“Oh,” Theresa said, unaware until now that Joanne’s husband had been sent out of L.A. County to fight a fire. 

Theresa didn’t know Roy well, because her connection to Joanne came as result of Theresa’s son, David, and Joanne’s son, Chris, being good friends since kindergarten. Joanne and Theresa had met when they’d both volunteered to be room mothers that year.  It was an added bonus that Theresa had a daughter Jennifer’s age, and then a daughter a year younger than Jen.  The kids played well together for the most part, and on days when summer didn’t seem like it would ever end, Joanne and Theresa’s friendship offered them a much-needed break from preparing snacks, fielding endless requests, and referring sibling squabbles. 

“You sound a little worried.  Is everything okay?”

Joanne chuckled. “As far as I know it is.  And no, I’m not worried just...let’s just say I’m maintaining a healthy concern until Roy is back home safely.”

“When will that be?”

“I don’t know for sure.  I hope before the weekend is over.”

“When did he leave?”

“Tuesday afternoon.”

“Then I’d say if there was ever a woman who needs to spend a few hours with a friend, it’s you.  I’ll see you at noon.”

Joanne smiled. “I guess I do need a few hours with a friend.  See you in a little while.”

“See you then.  And Jo?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry.  Roy’ll be fine.”

“I know he will be,” Joanne confirmed. 

The women said goodbye. After Joanne hung up the phone, she searched her kitchen cabinets for all the things kids like to eat and drink when on a picnic.

Ice cold lemonade will taste good on a day like today.  Joanne took a package of Wylers lemonade mix from a shelf. If I make it now and put it in the refrigerator, then add ice cubes to the Thermos, it’ll still be nice and cold when we get to the pool.

Joanne was grateful for the distraction of the picnic preparations, because it allowed her a short respite from her ‘healthy concern’ for Roy.

Besides, there’s nothing to worry about, Joanne assured herself as she glanced out the window to make certain Chris and Jennifer were still in the backyard.  Roy and Johnny will take care of one another.  They always do.

Those final thoughts about her husband and his partner, made Joanne feel better as she hurried through the rest of her housework, and then started packing sandwiches, fruit, and cookies into the picnic basket.

~*~

As soon as the door slid closed and locked, the helicopter rose into the sky.  The steady thump, thump, thump of the blades cut through the air, its unmistakable sound bringing a sense of relief to the man standing below.  He could no longer see his friend’s face through the window, but Johnny knew that Roy was safely on board, and headed towards the help he needed.   There had been times when Johnny wasn’t sure they’d make it, but here he was, watching the aircraft taking his injured partner safely off to the hospital. 

The sound suddenly changed, as if the helicopter was coming closer instead of moving away, and Johnny peered upward as he struggled to understand what was happening.  The downfall was sudden, the aircraft spiraling towards the earth, and no matter how hard he tried to move, Johnny felt as if he were held firmly in place.  There was no way to stop the inevitable. Instead, he was forced to watch in terror as the chopper slammed into the ground.

“Roy!”

“Roy!  Roy!”

His scream still echoed in the air as Johnny lunged upward, but the canopy of limbs held him down, stopping his movement.  His cries for Roy were now followed by a cry of sheer pain, leaving the injured paramedic struggling for control.  The realization came swiftly; he was still trapped beneath the fallen tree, his efforts through the long night and early morning hours largely unrewarded.  Yet something was different.  Johnny knew it had only been a dream; that Roy was still waiting for him to return with help.  But the sound ...it was the sound of a helicopter. 

Turning his head slightly, and willing himself to calm down, Johnny was instantly aware that the sound was, indeed, real.  There was a helicopter somewhere above him.  But even before he renewed his frantic attempt to escape, Johnny knew it was hopeless.  Even if the sky had been clear of the brownish haze, the chopper crew would have a hard time spotting him underneath the heavy limbs, and after hours of one handed digging, he was still a long way from being free of the fallen tree.  

Pushing aside his sense of frustration, Johnny started once more to claw at the dirt with his uninjured arm.  Somewhere in this charred or burning landscape, his partner was waiting for him.  Johnny wouldn’t allow himself to think otherwise. 

~*~

The DeSoto children were excited over the prospect of spending the afternoon with David, Heidi, and Michelle. And as Theresa had said, a few hours with a friend was just what Joanne needed.  

After lunch, the two mothers made the kids wait thirty minutes before going into the swimming pool, which brought a round of easily predicted protests from the boys.  Also easy to predict, was the way David and Chris immediately stifled their protests when told they wouldn’t be able to swim at all if they didn’t obey their mothers.  They ran for the playground equipment, joining the girls who were already using the swings and slides.  Joanne and Theresa sat in the shade and talked while the kids played, then when thirty minutes was up, helped the little girls get their bathing caps on and moved the group to the Olympic sized pool.

The two mothers settled themselves on towels by the shallow end of the pool, and continued to talk as the kids swam.  The heat finally drove Theresa and Joanne into the crowded pool with the children. That was fine with Jo.  After a week of trying to cool off in the kids’ wading pool, being in a pool large enough for adults was a pleasure.  She thought of Roy several times that afternoon, and was sorry he wasn’t here with them.  She could only imagine how hot and uncomfortable he must be, given his current working conditions. She hoped both Roy and Johnny got a few well-deserved days off upon their return. 

Joanne remained at the pool until three-thirty, then along with Theresa, picked up the picnic baskets, wet towels, and wading rings, and steered the kids toward the vehicles.  They parted ways in the parking lot.

“I’ll call you on Monday morning to see if Roy’s home.  If he’s not, let’s get together again for the afternoon.”

Joanne agreed to that plan. She knew if Roy wasn’t home by Monday, she’d welcome the company of another adult for a few hours.

As Joanne drove toward her neighborhood with two tired children in the back seat, Jennifer asked, “Mommy, will Daddy be home tonight?”

“I don’t know, Jen.  We’ll have to wait and see.”

“What if we wait and see, and then he doesn’t come home?”

Joanne chuckled. “Then we’ll have a campout in Mommy’s room again, and wait and see if Daddy’s home by tomorrow night.”

“Maybe that fire will burn for a long, long time, and Dad won’t come home in forever.”

“But I want Daddy to come home b‘fore forever.”

Joanne glanced at the kids in her rearview mirror, but didn’t scold Chris.  He wasn’t teasing his sister, but only stating what he thought of as a possibility.  After all, as a boy of seven, he thought fighting a fire ‘forever’ would be an exciting event.

“Daddy won’t be gone forever.  The men will get the fire out.”

“But what if it burns for months?” Chris asked.

“Then other men will be sent up there to help, and Daddy and Uncle Johnny will be sent home.”

“How come?”

“Because fire department headquarters will know that Daddy and Uncle Johnny are tired and need to come home to rest.  At that time, it will be someone else’s turn to go to Ojai.”

Jennifer sighed as she turned her head and looked out the window.  “I hope it’s Daddy’s turn to come home soon.”

“Me too, Jen,” Joanne said softly. “Me too.” 

~*~

Edna Glenbrook could hear the television half way down the hall. 

It’s a wonder the neighbors don’t complain with as loud as Harold has that thing.

Edna had spent that Friday afternoon making visits to members of her church who were shut-ins or hospitalized.  She’d done this every Friday afternoon for the past decade, and thought it provided a good break for both she and Harold.  They were married, but not joined at the hip.  Edna knew they needed time away from one another now and again, and even more so since Harold could no longer get around easily, and therefore spent most of each day in their apartment.

Edna had John Gage’s mail in her right hand, and her own in her left.  She would have knocked on Johnny’s door, but his Land Rover was still gone from the parking lot, so she knew he hadn’t returned from Ojai yet.  She shifted all the mail to her right hand, dug in her purse, got out her key ring, and opened her door. 

Harold didn’t hear his wife enter, despite her loud, “Hello! I’m home!”  The woman put their mail on the petite secretary’s desk she had against one wall, then put Johnny’s in a kitchen drawer where she’d been putting all the mail she’d collected for him since Wednesday.  Edna even went to the bedroom and put her purse away without Harold noticing she was in the apartment with him.

Harold startled when he finally caught sight of her coming into the living room from the short hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom.

“Jeez, woman, give an ole’ man a heart attack, will ya’?  Couldn’t ya’ at least say, ‘Hello’ when ya’ come in.”

“I did say hello!”

“Ya’ did not!”

“Harold, I did too.  You’re hearing would improve by seventy-five percent if you’d just turn the volume down on that darn television set.”

Edna walked over and adjusted the volume knob so she could stand to be in the same room with her husband.

“What’d ya’ do that for?  They’re talkin’ about that fire in Ojai! They interrupted Maverick for cryin’ out loud.”

Ever since Harold had found the station that showed reruns of old westerns on weekday afternoons, the television was rarely tuned to anything else from noon, until the news came on at six o’clock.

Edna walked backwards and sat down on the edge of an easy chair.  “You’ve probably seen that episode ten times.”

“Don’t matter how many times I’ve seen it! I wanna see it again without some gosh darn teenaged news reporter interruptin’ my show!”

“Shush now,” Edna said, while focusing on the blond man’s words.

“High winds continue to wreck havoc on this fire, and the men who are fighting it.  The fire shifted with overwhelming speed almost twenty-four hours ago now, trapping firefighters in the hills surrounding this town.  At last count, ten men were missing, though names have not been released, pending notification of family members.  Chief Leonard Smitz held a press conference at three, and said that everything humanly possible is being done to find the missing men.  Chief Smitz assured us it’s not unusual in an operation of this magnitude, for men to go missing for a period of time, and then turn up safe.  Sometimes the men are forced to backtrack on foot to find a path that will take them away from the blaze, and at this point, that seems to be what fire officials assume has happened to the men that are currently unaccounted for.   Since three men who were earlier listed as missing, turned up this afternoon in an area miles from the where they’d been assigned, fire officials feel positive the remaining men will report to a base camp some time before today is over.”

As the newsman shifted his subject to where the people of Ojai with chronic health problems could go to find free air-conditioned shelter, Edna turned to her husband.

“I hope Johnny’s not missing.”

“What would he be missing?  He’s right up there in the thick of things!”

“No! I said I hope he’s not missing!  I hope he’s not one of the men they can’t find!”

“Why would they fine him?  They’re the ones who asked Johnny to go up there!”

Edna shook her head as she stood to go the kitchen and start supper.

“Never mind.  Watch your T.V. show.”

And that’s just what Harold did, as Maverick resumed. Edna ignored the fact that her husband turned the television’s volume up again, and began cooking their evening meal, all the while saying a prayer that the Lord would keep Johnny safe. 

~*~

If there was one nice thing about not having your husband at home at night, Joanne thought, it was that you didn’t have to cook supper.  Kids the ages of Chris and Jennifer would choose easily prepared foods over meat and potatoes on any day, so on that evening, when it was too hot to consider turning on the oven, Joanne gave the kids toast and bowls of cereal, while she had a container of yogurt and a banana.   The topped their meal off with slices of watermelon, then Joanne had the kids help her clear the table. 

Joanne didn’t object when Chris turned on the television, and he and his sister sat on the floor next to the fan and watched a summer-time rerun of the Brady Bunch. She knew the kids were tired, so a quiet evening in the house was fine with her.  Whenever a commercial would come on, Chris would throw glances at the wall phone in the dining area. Joanne knew he was just as anxious for his father to call as she was, but she didn’t allow that anxiety to be broadcast to the children.  Instead, she sat down on the couch with the newspaper she hadn’t gotten a chance to read that day. 

The Brady Bunch ended and the Partridge Family began, with Joanne taking little notice. Halfway through that show, Joanne carried the newspaper to the kitchen trashcan, and headed to her bedroom for the novel she’d been reading that week.  She heard a strong knock on the screen door, as though someone was trying to be noticed over the noise of both the fan and T.V. set, then Jennifer’s cry of, “Daddy!” as bare feet scampered across the living room. 

Joanne ran for the living room, only to realize Jennifer must have noticed the dark blue trousers their visitor was wearing and mistook them for fire department uniform pants, before she took the time to look at the man’s face. For it wasn’t Roy standing on the front steps, but instead, Hank Stanley.

“Hi, Captain Stanley.” Joanne smiled as she unlocked the door and invited the man to step inside.  She could think of just one reason why he’d be here.

“You didn’t have to bring Roy’s check by.  I was going to stop at the station tomorrow morning and get it.”

Hank glanced down at the children, and in that brief second, Joanne sensed his discomfort. 

“Uh…Joanne, can we step outside for a minute, please.”

“Sure,” the woman said with a note of uneasiness to her tone. “Sure.” Joanne smiled at the kids. “Go back to the T.V., guys.  Mommy will be right outside.”

“Is it your turn to go to the fire, Captain Stanley?”

“Pardon?”

“So my daddy can come home,” Jennifer explained. “Mommy said that Daddy and Uncle Johnny would come home to rest when their turn was over, and other men would go.  So is it your turn?”

Joanne was puzzled by Hank’s answer when he replied with a subdued smile, “It’s not my turn yet, Jenny, but maybe it will be soon.”  He indicated to the front steps with a jerk of his head. “Jo…”

Once they were outside, Joanne dropped the use of the man’s formal title.  Her husband had worked for Hank long enough for her to feel comfortable calling him by his first name, not to mention that Hank wasn’t one to stand on formality outside the station. To his men, he was always, ‘Cap’ and to Beth Stoker and Joanne, he was always, ‘Hank.’

“Hank, what is it? Roy? Is Roy…”

The man glanced through the screen door to see the kids once again absorbed with the T.V. show they’d been watching. Between that and the fan, he was certain they couldn’t hear him.  Nonetheless, he put a hand on Joanne’s elbow and steered her down the steps and onto the front lawn.  That action on the man’s part scared Joanne.

“Hank…Roy…what’s happened?  What’s going on?”

“Joanne…I…I don’t know how to say this other than to come right to the point. Roy…Roy and John are missing.”

“Missing?  But how…when…”

“Since last night. The last time they were seen was around six o’clock, when they were following an engine company.”

“But if they were following an engine, how could they end up missing?”

“Somehow they got separated.  Visibility was really bad due to the smoke.  Other men are missing too, though several have been found in good condition. The guys running the show up there are confident the remaining men will be found unharmed as well.”

“How’d you find out about this?”

“Chief Raymonds called me at home about an hour ago. Someone with the Ventura department had contacted him.”

“What…what do we do now?”

“I was told we wait.”

“Wait?  But--”

“Jo, I know,” Hank sighed, while rubbing a hand over his forehead and kneading his temples for a moment.  “Believe me, I’d rather be doing something…anything, to help Ventura locate Roy and John, rather than being stuck here waiting for word.  But for as much as I’d like to head up there, and for as much as I know Chet, Marco, and Mike will wanna go with me when they hear about this, I’ve been given orders to sit tight.  I’m back on duty tomorrow.  There’s no way the department is gonna send me and my entire crew to Ojai.”

Despite the heat, Joanne felt a sudden chill course through her body.  She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the sky that was just beginning to show the first signs of darkness.  She’d feel so much better if Hank and the rest of Roy’s co-workers were sent to Ojai.  At least then, she’d have confidence that Roy and Johnny were being looked for.  But instead, like Hank, she was forced to have faith that the Ventura County Fire Department was doing all they could to locate two men they didn’t normally employ.  It wasn’t that she thought Roy and Johnny would be less of a priority, it was just that they’d only been up there for two and a half days when they’d gone missing, and from what Joanne knew, had been moved around a lot.  Did anyone on the Ventura department even know who they were, other than names on a clipboard?  Would anyone recognize Roy and Johnny as the paramedics from Los Angeles, or be able to put a face to their names when told to keep an eye out for them?

Joanne was brought out of her dark thoughts when she felt a hand rest briefly on her shoulder.

“Jo...”

“I’d…” the woman took a deep breath.  “I’d just feel so much better if they were fighting that fire here in L.A. County.  I...I’m worried that no one will know who they are, or that the search for them won’t be carried out with the same kind of priority it would be if they were Ventura County firefighters.”

“Don’t worry about any of that,” Hank said, while not admitting to the woman he had the same concerns she did.  The former was a real possibility. It was hard to say how well anyone had gotten to know Roy and John given the short period of time they’d been in Ojai, and added to that, the chaos going on up there.  The latter – well, Hank had to believe that every missing man was a priority to the Ventura County Fire Department, but on the other hand, it was human nature to worry more about your own men, than to worry about someone you wouldn’t know if you passed him on the street.

 Joanne glanced at the door in order to make sure the children were still watching television. When she didn’t see any heads peeking out, and when she heard the kids laugh after Danny Partridge made some smart aleck remark to his brother Keith, she turned back to Hank.

“When…when do you think we’ll know something?”

“That I can’t predict. But if I hear anything more this evening, I’ll call you.”

“Please do. And I don’t care how late it is. I don’t care if it’s two o’clock in the morning. Please call if you find out anymore.”

“I will.”

“If I don’t hear from you, the kids and I will come by the station tomorrow morning to get Roy’s check…if that’s okay with you.”

“You know it is.  You and the kids are welcome any time.”

“I…maybe you’ll know something by then.”

“Maybe I will,” Hank agreed.  He glanced at his watch. “Listen, I’d better get goin’. I told Grace I wouldn’t be gone long. She was gonna stay close to the phone – and keep the girls off of it - in case the chief calls back again.”

Joanne gave the man a small smile. “Tell her thank you for me.”

“I will.  And she also said to tell you that if you need a break – need a few hours away from the kids - to give her a call. She’ll be happy to come get them.  They can swim in our pool while the girls keep an eye on them.”

Joanne nodded her thanks.  Hank’s two daughters were teenagers, and each of them had babysat for Chris and Jennifer on occasion.

“And if anything…if there’s any reason you and I need to make a trip up to Ojai, Grace said the kids are to come to our place if you don’t have other arrangements made for them.”

It was then that all the possibilities regarding Roy’s fate came to the forefront of Joanne’s mind.  He could be seriously injured.  He could be dead. He could be missing for weeks before his body was discovered.  Why else would Hank suggest she might have to take a trip to Ojai with him?  

“Thanks to you and Grace both. I appreciate all you’ve done.”

“We haven’t done anything yet.”

Joanne gave the man the best smile she could muster. “Yes you have. Just by coming over here and letting me know in person, and then Grace offering to take the kids, you’ve done a lot, Hank, and don’t think for one minute that you haven’t.”

Hank patted the woman’s arm, then asked, “Are you gonna be all right alone tonight? Is there someone you’d like me to call?”

“I’ll be fine.  And no, I don’t want you to call anyone.  If our normal routine changes too much, the kids will wonder what’s going on.”

Hank nodded. Joanne had made a good point.

“If you need me, I’ll be at home. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“I won’t.”

“Otherwise, I hope I have good news for you by the time you come to the station tomorrow.”

“I hope you do, too, Hank,” Joanne said as he walked the man to his car. “I hope you do too.”

Joanne stood in the driveway and watched the captain back his Grand Prix into the street.  She waited until she could no longer see his taillights, before returning to the house.  The Partridge Family was going off the air when Joanne walked in the door.  She pasted a smile on her face, and forced her voice to sound normal.

“Okay, Jen, bath time.  Chris, when your sister is done with her bath, it’ll be your turn.”

The fact that Chris didn’t protest the bath was a testament to his weariness from the full day of play he’d had under the hot sun.  He stood and flipped channels.

“Why was Captain Stanley here?”

“He was in the neighborhood, so stopped by to see if we were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t we be okay?”

“No reason. But with Daddy gone, he wanted to make sure I didn’t need his help with anything.”

“Oh.”

 That was all Chris said, so Joanne knew it made sense to him. He was used to seeing Johnny give Roy a hand with household projects, and used to hearing Johnny offer to help in any way he could if Roy was laid up with an injury. Therefore, Joanne supposed it was easy for Chris to accept that Hank Stanley might do the same thing, given that both Roy and Johnny were in Ojai.

Fortunately, getting the kids bathed, giving them a snack, and then reading them a story, helped Joanne pull off the ‘normal routine’ scenario she’d spoken of to Hank, without the children sensing she was worried about something.  Like the previous night, the kids slept on top of their sleeping bags on Joanne’s bedroom floor, with the fan blowing from the doorway.  When Joanne knew they were both asleep, she shut the light off and headed down the hall.  She carried a small oscillating fan from the kitchen to the living room.  She sat it on an end table, plugged it in, and turned the T.V. on.  She paid no attention to what channel Chris had left it on, because at ten o’clock all the network stations would have local news broadcasts.

What Joanne heard on the news that night didn’t differ much from what the Glenbrooks had heard.  None of the missing firefighters were named, though three more had been found unharmed, leaving the number of men not accounted for at seven.  Joanne looked at the phone. She knew if Roy were one of the men who had been found, he’d call as soon as he could. But exactly how soon that would be, would depend on when he could get to a phone.  Either way, call or no call, Joanne had a feeling she was in for a long night.     

Part 3